


Ventilation Voyeurism

by AdamantSteve



Series: Spies Will Be Spies [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Voyeurism, clint is a total perv, vent crawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The real reason Clint crawls around those vents all the time is that he's just a nosy motherfucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ventilation Voyeurism

**Author's Note:**

> I read a tiny line in a fic where Clint caught sight of Steve and Tony whilst he was in the vents and it gave me this idea of him just watching everyone and everything he could from the vents. The original half-plan was to write this as a 5 + 1 fic but then it just became this. I wanted to see if I could write a whole fic in one hour, and I did!

People assumed Clint liked crawling around in the vents because he liked confined spaces, was agoraphobic or just liked being up high, and those were all true to an extent. But the real reason was because he was _nosy_. In the circus, a scandalous secret or two on any person could be used to your advantage, and SHIELD was kind of like a huge circus, gaudy costumes and all, especially once Captain America had woken up.

 

Coulson knew, of course, knew everything, really. Clint enjoyed spying on him terrorising the junior agents in subtle ways. A perverse part of him enjoyed getting yelled at for it, so long as it was Coulson doing the yelling. 

 

He was careful not to be too obvious when he spied on him, but that was just self-preservation. 

 

-

 

On the longer stretches that the Avengers were on the Helicarrier full time, Clint would hover over his various teammates temporary quarters. He decided to check up on Steve to maybe find out just what it was that Phil found so intoxicating about him. Pick up some tips, perhaps.

 

" _Steve_ , not here." Came a man's voice from Steve's room, drifting into the vent before Clint even could see. 

"C'mon, Tony. Please?" 

 

Clint stilled momentarily in surprise before shuffling as fast as he could to the vent to see that yep, that was indeed Tony Stark in Steve's quarters, shirts off and arguing. They always fought but now it made so much more sense. _They were fucking._ They were fucking in secret. 

 

He peered down and watched as Steve pulled Tony's tablet out of his hand to toss almost carelessly on the small desk behind him and pull him into an embrace. Tony sagged, relenting to a kiss and being shoved over to the tiny bed, scowling when he bounced on the thin mattress. Steve licked his lips and looked him over before flicking his trousers open with a practiced hand, pulling down Tony's pants before launching himself enthusiastically onto his cock. 

 

"God, Steve. Fury probably has cameras all over this fucking place, not to mention a key. _Oh!_ Yeah, right there. You have the libido of a - oh, _fuck yes."_  

Clint's eyes widened when he heard Steve's response, low and growling, peppered with swear words and filthy things Clint couldn't even imagine _Tony_ saying. 

"You know it only makes me want you more when you squirm and complain about it," he said next, snaking up a hand to pinch Tony's nipple, making him bite off a curse. 

"You want it whatever I'm doing." Tony countered, reaching over his head to grab at the tablet on the desk. 

 

Steve didn't pull away from Tony's cock as he grunted and pulled him further down the bed, making Tony yowl. He did, however, pull away when he flipped Tony over and started kneading his ass cheeks, pulling down his own pants and rubbing his - huge - cock up and down the cleft of Tony's ass. 

Of course, it was Tony, so he couldn't not complain.

"Really? You're gonna fuck me in the ass on the goddamn helicarrier? We're probably already being streamed on the internet right now." 

"Good." Steve replied, rubbing a hand up and down Tony's back. "Then they'll know why you’re walking a little funny" Steve leant down to bite at the back of Tony’s neck. “They’ll know it’s cause you had my cock buried inside you.” 

"To think I thought you were Mr Golden Apple Pie, butter wouldn't melt, clean cut America's Sweetheart. You're the biggest slut I've ever met, Steve."

"And you love it."

 

Tony shrugged in agreement and reached a hand down to the drawer under the bed and pulled it open, feeling around before tossing something to Steve. Lube, Clint determined, wishing for once that the vent wasn't so restrictive and he could get a hand into his own pants. Something about Steve Rogers - first of all _being gay_ (!!!!!) and so _wanton_ with it, maybe Clint was finally getting what Phil saw. And oh god, he wondered if Phil knew! Maybe. He did usually seem to know everything.

 

They fucked, and it was rough, Tony biting a pillow like so many torrid stories, Steve smacking his ass til it was red, crawling over him and whispering things Clint couldn't make out as he pounded into him. It didn't take long for Tony's complaints to give way to mewls of submission and Clint couldn't decide which of them he'd rather be. Had no idea how he'd ever get out of that vent with such a raging erection.

 

They finished, Tony shoving Steve off of him and disappearing into the tiny bathroom, re-appearing and being engulfed in Steve's arms again before he could get to his tablet. Steve was all kisses and sweet murmurs then, and they both fell asleep before Clint painfully crawled away.

 

-

 

Coulson was an odd one to watch. He worked hard in his little Helicarrier office, all day, but would take breaks, usually when he was waiting for a new cup of coffee to cool down or after eating, to check ebay, do online shopping and, most interestingly of all, check a personal email address. Clint hadn't even conceived of that: Phil Coulson having a life outside of SHIELD. Who did he email? What did he email them about? The computer screen was at an infuriatingly difficult angle to see from the vent, so Clint could never make out anything other than the gmail logo. It was like an itch that he just couldn't reach to scratch, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Even Hawkeye’s vision didn’t go ‘round corners.

 

-

 

When Clint crawled over Bruce's private lab on the helicarrier, it was usually boring, Bruce patiently looking at screenfuls of numbers and graphs or looking down microscopes. But this time Natasha was there. Clint _knew_ Natasha, knew she wouldn't be there without a specific intent and lingered to find out what her game was. She liked the relative ease of a life working for SHIELD, but it was boring compared to her old life, so she took risks as and when she felt like it as a game to play with herself. Clint had a slight sinking feeling when he saw the way she moved towards Bruce, the zipper on her leather uniform an inch or two lower than it might normally be.

 

"About what we discussed before, Bruce..." She said, positively sauntering up to him, Bruce blushing as he took off his glasses to clean them on his shirt and put them back on. He didn't respond beyond an “Uh,-" before Natasha was in his personal space.

"Not... Not here. It's too dangerous. But. Uh." Bruce mumbled, Natasha pressed herself against him, as unsubtle as you like. She trailed a finger down the side of Bruce's face as she stared into his eyes, promising god knows what with them. 

 

"When we're back on solid ground." She finished for him, Bruce giving a microscopic nod in affirmation. She stepped away from him but let her finger remain, trailing it back and around Bruce as she walked to the door, wiggling her ass like a cat. She even looked like a cat when she stopped, looked back over her shoulder to fix Bruce with another dark eyed stare before leaving. Once the door was closed, Bruce pressed his palm to his crotch and shifted in his seat. He looked like a wreck. _Natasha is going to ruin him,_ thought Clint as he shuffled away. 

 

-

 

Natasha knew about Clint's spying games, as much an amusement to him as her seduction of irradiated professors was to her. Using their peculiar skill sets to amuse themselves when they weren't using them to save the world. They didn't tell each other everything though, that would have been far too easy. He did, however, tell Natasha to go easy on Bruce, to which she just cocked an eyebrow and smirked. 

 

-

 

The next time Clint snuck a look at Phil's office, Phil was away, so, with his heart in his mouth, he gingerly unscrewed the grill and dropped down into the room. He'd done this before, and even if it annoyed Phil to no end, Clint didn't care. He usually claimed it was good practice, but even he knew that Phil knew that was bullshit. 

 

He'd been through the drawers plenty of times before, they were full of the usual office detritus and of no interest. In any case, there was no way Phil would leave anything of import in an unlocked office drawer, even if there were two locks on the office door and various extreme penalties promised to anyone who snuck in via the ventilation system.

 

No, what Clint was there for was the computer. There was the slimmest chance that he could move the mouse and Phil wouldn't have locked it, which had happened exactly once before. But no such luck. Clint tried two new passwords and wasn't surprised that Cap_America and cApTaInAmErIcA hadn't worked and knew that a third attempt would flag that someone had attempted to log in, so gave it up and returned from whence he came. 

 

He'd have to try again another time to find out who Phil emailed on his lunch breaks. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit he was jealous of whoever it was that Phil typed out those long messages to, imagining some broad shouldered stranger who did something normal and boring and bought groceries and made dinner for them both. They probably went to the opera together, Clint idly thought to himself.

 

-

 

The next time he visited Tony and Steve, they were both working on tablets, Steve sitting cross-legged on the bed, Tony's head on a pillow in Steve's lap. Steve absently brushed a hand through Tony's hair when he wasn't using it to type. It was ever so domestic and sweet that Clint actually felt a little voyeuristic for once.

 

-

 

Natasha didn't go easy on Bruce. She visited him again and Clint watched as she sprawled around Bruce's lab, bending over like a stripper, all ass sticking out and tits resting on the edge of the bench Bruce was working on, the zip on her suit lower every time til it was practically down to her navel. Bruce stuttered and made excuses, the two of them making dates and deals that Clint didn't understand, but sensing that Natasha ached to get Bruce to change his mind and go against whatever his word was. Her thing was making other people make the first move, even if she danced a jig around them, it'd always be them who made the first step forwards, and that was her win. Sometimes she'd dance, other times she'd turn on her heel and leave. She was like a cat with a mouse, and it was amazing to watch.

 

Eventually, Bruce slammed the table with a hand and Natasha's eyes sparkled with malicious glee. She leaned into him and purred something into his ear trailing that finger over his skin again, which made him reach around her and grab her wrist, a move which had rendered many a man before him no less than dead. But Natasha let him, nostrils flaring as he just held her there before moving in to kiss her, pulling her onto his lap before reaching a broad hand into her suit. That was the point at which Clint backed away. Natasha really was going to ruin him.

 

-

 

On the way back Clint passed Steve's room once more. Steve was drawing Tony working on his tablet and it looked pretty good from where Clint was. "Phil emailed me again the other day." he said conversationally, pencil scritch-scratching across the page. 

"Yeah? Still pining?" Tony replied. 

"I said he should just tell him. Maybe I could-"

Tony looked up sharply. "No. No Steve. Don't you go all Jane Austen on me. Agent and Legolas need to deal with their own crap themselves, ok?"

"But I could just say-"

"Nope!" 

"But-"

"Nope!"

Tony put down his tablet and pulled Steve's pad away before sitting himself in Steve's lap, Steve acquiesced, nuzzling happily into Tony as Tony repeated, “Nope nope nope. Not our department. We're in the avenging business. Leave the matchmaking to eHarmony."

 

-

 

Clint didn't catch Steve's reply, he was already back over Phil's office.

 

 

 


End file.
